


Mornings

by oh_johnny



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Hands, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:50:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_johnny/pseuds/oh_johnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul really loves mornings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of an old fic originally posted on the lj comm johnheartpaul

Mornings were the best times, though he'd never really thought of himself as a morning person. Who gets up early on the road? Well, okay, so it's not actually early, but it's before noon so it's still technically morning and here he is, awake and loving it.

Of course, his pillow has a lot to do with it. John's chest, so solid, is the most comfortable place he's ever found to rest his head, not counting Jane's breasts. The morning had a lot to do with it, too. John in the morning was a revelation: quiet, calm, unhurried, before the manic energy overtook him and he was off racing through the rest of the day. Lovely.

He lay listening to John snore and ran his hand across his chest. The flat planes of it, the solid muscle under the skin, never failed to thrill him. His thumb idly flicked a nipple, watching it harden as he moved his head to nuzzle into John's neck, inhaling the smell of him, pot and sweat and whiskey and sex. He opened his mouth against the place where John's neck met his torso and flicked his tongue over the skin there, tasting him.

John's hand moved, stroking down Paul's back as he muttered an incomprehensible syllable, indicating wakefulness if not actual consciousness. 

Paul shifted slightly as he moved his mouth next to John's ear.

“I love you,” he whispered.

John grunted a response and moved a hand to cup Paul's face, running his thumb back and forth across Paul's cheek. Paul shifted again, this time lifting his body slightly to rest more fully on John, and placed a gentle kiss on John's lips. John smiled and opened one eye, then the other, hand still holding Paul's face. Paul kissed him again, so softly it was as if he was just resting his mouth on John's, and he lay there for a moment or two, the two of them breathing into each other. Then, not breaking the kiss, John wrapped an arm around Paul's waist and rolled them so they were both on their sides. Paul's hand ran down John's side, caressing him from shoulder to waist to thigh, over and over. John's hand swept down Paul's back, coming to rest on his ass. 

Paul pulled back from the kiss and looked at John, who grinned and moved Paul's hair out of his face.

“Fuck, but you're beautiful in the morning,” said John, moving his hand to Paul's chest. Paul rolled into him, trapping John's hand as he kissed him again. John's hand found Paul's nipple and his fingers started to play with it, Paul hissing slightly as the sensation went straight to his cock. He felt John smile under his mouth, and John moved his hand back to Paul's ass, this time cupping one cheek firmly and starting to pull Paul against him in a gentle rhythm. Their tongues began to slide against each other as their hardening cocks did the same. Keeping the rhythm John had started, Paul reached for his hand, bringing it to his mouth. He kissed John's palm then slid his open mouth across John's hand, pulling each finger into his mouth as he reached it, licking, sucking gently, watching as John's eyes clouded over and his head arched against the pillow.

“Fuck,” John breathed.

“Touch me,” whispered Paul, “Please.”

John moaned as he moved his hand down to grasp Paul's cock, Paul's breath hitching as he did so. Their mouths met again, this time with some force, tongues duelling, as Paul thrust into John's hand. When Paul's hand moved down to stroke John, John groaned and moved his mouth to Paul's neck, hot breath and wet tongue tasting him, breathing him, sucking at a pulse point as Paul began to gasp, calling John's name. 

John rolled them over again, this time coming to rest on top of Paul. Paul grabbed John's ass in both hands, hips thrusting against him, both of them slick with sweat. John let go of Paul's cock and instead took Paul's face in his hands. He lifted his head and looked Paul in the eye.

“I love you, too,” he breathed, then took Paul's mouth with his own, moaning into him, tongue plunging into him in time with his hips, swallowing Paul's cries, both of them sliding against the other, chests and hips and cocks meeting, up and down and back and forth, over and over and over until Paul arched up and into John, moaning his name, the sound bringing him to his own climax.

They collapsed on top of each other, breathing ragged, hearts racing, legs tangled, lay for a few minutes in complete silence, until John moved his mouth to Paul's ear.

“I love mornings,” he whispered.

Paul just smiled.


End file.
